


Antes

by runicmagitek



Series: Random-Access Memories [3]
Category: Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7028344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabble prompts involving the man within the Transistor before his fate was locked away, for while he might not have been found in the system, he existed - brilliant as any other citizen of Cloudbank.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> While prompts with him and Red will pop up, the series as a whole is gen. I also default on calling him Blue, which is in the minority, though I'll try to keep his name/description vague.

Before he ever met her, it started with a song. The radio melody filtered through speakers in the bar. He paused in his game of billiards to note the subtleties of the siren’s voice.

“It’s your turn,” Preston called out to him, only to chuckle. “What’s wrong? Mesmerized?”

His chin motioned to the speakers. “Hear this before?”

“Yeah. That new girl everyone’s voting for from the rising stars concert. Red’s her name, I think.”

He smiled. “I think I’m beginning to like her.”

“Join the club. There’s a line.”

And he had a feeling it would be worth the wait. 


	2. Accusation

People noted the bandages wrapped around yet another limb and asked what happened this time. The stories differed, but the root cause didn't. Another confrontation, thus another fight. Accusations of cheating or threats of unknown debts needing to be paid. But he met their anger with a calm frustration which led to tight fists zooming toward him. Sometimes he dodged, sometimes he didn’t. Wounds healed, but what hurt the most were the jaded faces which screamed, “You got yourself into another mess. How predictable.” If they only understood he never instigated the violence; fighting back was all he ever knew.


	3. Restless

The empty spot in the bed used to frighten him. Instead, it prompted him to slip out and sneak into the kitchen. The cold pot of coffee was replaced with a fresh, piping hot one. He prepped two mugs: one black and one with three sugars and cream.

And he always found her restless in the study, scribbling lyrics and music notes on endless pages while humming. 

He placed her pale coffee beside her. “At it again?”

Red’s face brightened with a smile, looking up before touching the coffee. He kissed the tip of her nose and she giggled. “Always.”


	4. Snowflake

“Oh, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Red nudged his arm. “Is someone grumpy over the snow winning the vote instead of the rain?” she teased.

He grumbled while glaring at the white bullshit falling from the sky. The majority won by a landslide and once again he had to persist through the snowflakes. Rain would have been more calming, more appealing. Not many thought so.

“But think of it this way,” Red said while nestling into his side. “You can keep me warm in this kind of weather.”

Looping an arm around her, he smiled. “I’d do so in any weather, Red.”


	5. Haze

Many spoke of haze while fighting—an adrenaline frenzy pushing one to persist. As for Blue, it was more of a moment of clarity than a veil which blinded him. Most swung without reason, but he stepped back to examine the bigger picture. If at any point he could avoid the violence, he did, whether it was a timed parry or running out the door. But sometimes, idiots needed to be punched, and when he did, that same clarity assisted him to ensure a single blow sufficed. Many mistook him relishing a fight; he was just good at his trade.


	6. Flame

The best spots for entertainment and a good drink were those not overcrowded by gaudy folk after attending a debut performance of something. It was in the holes in the wall, lit by flames from candles and powered by enough energy to keep the sports stream rolling. The drinks might have been cheap, but the people in those establishments brought a smile to his face. Didn't matter how shitty the day was; he found himself at peace around those who didn't judge him. He found good men like Preston there, seeking peace when the roads they traveled were anything but. 


	7. Formal

He was already hating his new gig. It had been some time since someone hired him to be a bodyguard, but the pay was worth it. Or so he kept tell himself while he fused over the damn formal suit he was instructed to wear. He hadn’t even been told who his mark was to look over, which further irritated him until he saw  _ her _ . Stepping out of the limo was the renowned redhead adorned in gold.

“Hey,” was what Red said to him.

And then he forgot about his annoyances with his attire for the rest of the night.


	8. Companion

Of all the bodyguard gigs, looking out for Red proved to be the oddest one. Not that he _didn't_ like her company, but she was different. Less demands, far more smiles. Someone as radiant and sweet as her? Who would dare lay a finger on her? But the OVC headlines once proclaimed of the riots during one a performance. He saw it in her eyes—she worried. As time passed, she softened around him and he looked upon her less as a paycheck and more of a companion.

And _that_ was the problem—he never had with anyone else before.


	9. Moves

“You know—” Preston plopped beside him. “—at the rate you're losing these recent fights, the more money I'll keep losing.”

He peered past the bloodied handkerchief against his nose. “Then don't  keep betting on me just because I'm your friend.”

“What's wrong? Have a pretty lady distracting your thoughts?” The silence answered him. “Well, shit. You do, don't you?”

“I didn't even—”

“Can't even tell me her name?”

Maybe his movements _were_ sluggish lately, but he didn't skip a beat to smack Preston. They laughed it off, filled their mugs, and once the tavern closed, he told Preston her name.


	10. Silver

"We don't need to do this, you know."

Red scoffed. Or maybe she chuckled. It was hard to tell with her. "But I _want_ to!"

Ever since she spotted the motorcycles zipping down the empty roads well past midnight after a late rehearsal, she insisted on wanting to try one. Leave it to a bunch of drag racing kids to plant seedy thoughts into her head. At least Preston was lenient enough to lend him one of his bikes—clearly an older and less sentimental model, but it did the trick.

"I've ridden a bicycle before," she continued. "This can't be much different."

Blue sighed. "Yeah, but—"

"You don't want me to get hurt."

"A bit hard to protect you when you're going faster than the wind."

Then she pouted. She _had_ to do that.

"That's why," he continued while mounting behind her, "I'm going to try and talk you through it."

And she grinned. "Then don't let go."

Once the motor revved and the wheels spun, he clung to her waist and hoped for the best. Turned out he had nothing to fear; Red was a natural. Nothing but a silver blur on the highway lining the prismatic city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double drabble. I couldn't bring myself to cut this down to 100 words, so you all get a treat.


	11. Prepared

Everyone in Cloudbank had a place and thus, a purpose. Easier said than done when growing up without a single selection. Instead, he took odd jobs, the tasks no one resigned the rest of their lives to accomplish. A lifetime of countless, eclectic jobs thrown his way. He gathered sensitive information, he mediated disputes, he offered protection when needed, and above all, he hid in the shadows. Damn good, too. Good enough that the Camerata never suspected him. But he never suspected them, either, and wished he had been as prepared for them as he had been with everything else.


	12. Knowledge

He didn't train in an academy to know how to swing his fists and think on his feet. Such knowledge came from nothing but experience. Sometimes he cherished that more than a digital document declaring what his life purpose was until the Country. Maybe he wasn't aiding Cloudbank for its best interests, but he knew a thing or two about keeping things in  _ his _ best interest. It meant being familiar with the streets and inner workings of the area in Cloudbank that most chose to ignore. That was fine by him; it meant others would never suspect him of anything. 


	13. Denial

He convinced himself it was nothing. Just hormones clouding his brain. Who wouldn't be swayed by the likes of her, anyways? Red had a knack for people and emotions. Her songs echoed in the souls of Cloudbank, but not everyone witnessed Red off stage. Between rehearsals, when she hummed alone in front of a mirror, he watched. That was his job, but now was different. Somehow. 

_ No way she'd ever give someone like me more than a passing thought,  _ he contemplated.

But one day she caught a glimpse of his reflection and he never witnessed a smile so bright before. 


	14. Wind

The city blossomed gradually in the witching hours. Most slept through the changes, all thanks to popular vote, but Blue was awake more often than not. He didn't vote for the windy weather. Then again, the polls weren't meant for him. Each instance he attempted to vote resulted in glitched results. Administrators issued apologies during snowstorms when the people asked for sunshine. Maybe he wouldn't be a voice in the ever-changing metropolis, but no one would miss just one voice. He was no different from the wind—coming and going with no one giving it more than a passing thought. 


	15. Order

He couldn’t recall how the topic initially surfaced, but he remembered promising to take her one day. After a late rehearsal, Red clutched his arm.

“We should go,” she whispered.

"Where?"

"You know!"

“Wait… _now_?”

Those sparkling eyes on him were all it took to cave in.

Junction Jan’s was never a high-class joint, but Red brightened the place up just fine. Together they sat in a corner to relish an order of sea monster flatbread and each other’s company.

"We should do this more often," Red said before consuming another sloppy bite.

"You think so?"

And she smiled. "Yeah."


	16. Thanks

A wall of people shoved forward as lights flashed within the masses. The crowd squealed for Red, begged for her fleeting attention, but there was a limo with her name on it opposite the fans. And it was his job to get her there safely. 

Blue stepped forward and stood tall. “I got this,” he murmured back to Red.

Despite her stage presence, even the pressure of the limelight wore her out. She leaned back into him, focusing on her breaths, then flicked her eyes up to meet his. 

“Thank you,” she mouthed.

He never noticed her hand squeezing his. 


	17. Look

The coordinator wasn’t new. He couldn't complain of the increase in organization and time management, but he only recently noticed the lingering glances towards Red. Those persisting touches after hugs and awe-stricken eyes… he knew that look; he found himself regarding Red the same way. 

“What’s with her?” he asked one night.

“With who?” Red replied with, fixated on her reflection.

“Sybil,” he spat out.

Red chuckled. “She’s enthusiastic about work.”

“You sure that’s all?”

And when Red faced him with that expression reserved only for him and squeezed his hands, he believed her when she said, “Yeah, I’m sure.”


	18. Summer

"I love summer," he exhaled with a smile.

"Because it's not cold?" Red's fingers poked him until they laughed.

"That," he said, "and the skies."

"The skies?"

"There's something about the way the clouds mix with the light at both dawn and dusk. I… don't have the words to describe it."

"Then show me."

And he did. From the rooftop before a rehearsal, they ignored Cloudbank and focused on the skies. Millions of colors blended like paints on a canvas as the sun dipped into the horizon. He loved it. And he loved sharing that moment with Red even more.


	19. Transformation

Red had mentioned off-hand of knowing the woman responsible for the dusk and dawn skies transforming into vibrant palettes that he admired. Farrah Yon-Dale was a name better kept for hushed conversations than idle chit-chat, but it made no difference to Red.

"Her and I go back," she admitted. 

His jaw dropped. "You  _ know _ her?!"

Red nodded. "She painted and I sang, but our intentions remained the same. Birds of the same feather, but we flew in separate directions."

That knowing smirk of Red's was lost on him as he rambled on of his adoration for the sky painter.

He never expected Farrah herself to grace the people of Cloudbank with her presence at the gala he accompanied with Red. She simply patted his arm, smiled, winked, and wandered off, leaving the two alone to converse.

"M-Ms. Yon-Dale," he managed out, already shuffling and fidgeting in place, "I am such a—"

Her laugh was as rich and radiant as her colors. "Oh please, no need for formalities! Your Red's bodyguard, right?" She extended a hand and he was quick to shake it. "She's spoken highly of you. Such a pleasure to finally meet you!"

And he beamed. "Same to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The man in the transistor always struck me as the type of guy who stays on top of information and what's popular with Cloudbank, hence knowing of those they find in the transistor, though the way he spoke of Farrah always made me feel he admired her to some extent. I like to think they crossed paths before their fates were carried out.
> 
> Also another double drabble, because I had _feels_ about this topic.


	20. Tremble

It was Red’s idea. "I've never seen it before," she had claimed. Only night owls witnessed the phenomena of Cloudbank shedding its old skin for the votes; of course he would stay up and show her. 

Red almost nodded off, cheek perched upon his shoulder. He didn't dare wake her, not until Cloudbank began changing. In silence, they stared. Her fingers danced over his. He ignored the erratic rattle in his chest.

Her body trembled and he shrugged off his jacket to drape over Red. Still she shivered, thus he inched closer. 

“You okay?” he murmured. 

Their shoulders bumped, then their noses. The silence deafened him when Red never answered. When she did, the tender kiss of hers rendered him useless. The sounds and lights of the cityscape blurred to nothing as he focused on the ebbs and waves of Red's mouth. It warmed his soul, gave new purpose to his beating heart, and left him smiling. His lungs begged for air, yet he couldn't stop kissing her, touching her, relishing her. He expected to wake from a dream when they broke that kiss, only to find Red grinning.

"Yeah," she whispered, easing back into him as Cloudbank effortlessly evolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another double drabble, because _first kisses_


	21. Sunset

He initially mistook it as a glitch. The skies lacked Ms. Yon-Dale’s creative touch. Was there a vote which changed the sunsets he came to love? No more vivid splotches of complimentary colors swirling amidst twilight. Red said nothing of a poll which altered the fate of the skies, but what troubled her more was Farrah's radio silence on the OVC. 

“Farrah has her demons,” Red murmured with a pout. “She always did. My heart breaks for her…. Maybe she needed a break?”

“Don’t we all,” he muttered, eyes glued to the horizon, in search of what no longer existed.


	22. Mad

It began as smack talk. It always did.

“We can go somewhere else,” Red offered.

But he’d be damned if some drunkard ruined the night with lewd gossip about his lady. 

He hoped to take it outside, but the drunk cut him off with a sloppy punch. Fists flew, blood sputtered, and bar patrons hollered in excitement. Maybe they placed bets, who knew. He seldom started fights, but he always finished them.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Red purred, looming over him on the sidewalk.

He removed the ice-filled glass from his face and smiled. “Just doing my job.”


	23. Thousand

“This might not be your kinda joint,” he reminded her as they entered the sports bar.

“Well,” she purred with a smirk, “I won’t know until I try.”

Hundreds crammed into the establishment while thousands more watched from home. Preston was kind enough to save them a seat front and center by the bar.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” he said, kissing Red's knuckles. “Glad lover boy finally brought you around. I do  apologize ahead of time if we’re too rowdy.”

Red glowed. “I think I’ll fit right in.”

She did from looks alone; he lent her his Olmarq jersey, which she donned like an oversized sweater against her jeans and tank top. She drank drafts with the boys and munched on fried cheese while discussing field tactics. By halftime, she memorized half the rules and players names.

When the Hammers scored the winning points with a minute left on the clock, Red cheered with the masses. By then, he was more focused on her than the game.

Preston caught his eye amidst the excitement and raised a glass. “You better keep her,” he mouthed.

All he did was grin, pull Red in close, and kiss her giggling face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another double drabble, because I have too many feels about these kinds of things.


	24. Outside

“ _You_ shouldn’t be here.”

Upon ending her phone conversation, Sybil turned and smirked. “Neither should you.”

“Red has another events manager. She doesn’t _need_ you.”

“Her personal bodyguard is privy to logistical details now?” She tsked. “I've always had Red’s best interest in mind. How about I do my job and _you_ do yours. Besides, can’t exactly protect Red if you’re outside and away from her, right?”

Sybil left the alley. He longed to follow and squeeze information out of her, but he couldn’t. All he could do was keep Red safe from whatever obsessive behavior Sybil refused to ignore.


	25. Winter

“Damn this weather.”

Red chuckled. “Someone not a fan of winter?”

He peeked out from his blanket cocoon by the fireplace. “What gave you  _ that  _ idea?”

“Can’t be that bad." Red joined him with two mugs of cocoa. “More reason to snuggle with you.”

He relished the warmth from the drink, but loved Red sneaking into the blanket with him even more. Together they shared reminders of why they fell in love in the first place, whether it was in laughter, in silence, in caresses, or in stillness. The fire in time died out, but their hearts burned together eternally. 


	26. Diamond

He loathed fashion shows. The music business had its politics, but it was child's play in light of the fashion world. If his tie wasn’t perfectly knotted, the socialites parading in haute couture gutted him alive, never mind gossip about his lack of taste. But he stuck it out for Red. She donned a glittering gown, comprised of minute, hand-stitched diamonds and nothing else. Even Darzi complimented Red after his show and begged to dress her for her next performance. All eyes lit up before Red. With every gasp, he smirked, knowing he was the one going home with her. 


	27. Letters

“You know you can vote, right?” she mentioned after two weeks of weather complaints. 

It was in good humor, but he couldn’t hide his frown or the truth. Behind closed doors, he explained. Of the glitched screens, the encrypted letters, and the oddities each time he approached a terminal. 

“I don’t belong here,” he said through tears held back for a lifetime. “I’m broken. The Administration would sooner send me to the Country than help.”

Red cupped his face and kissed away those tears. “You're not broken,” she murmured. “I love you just the way you are. Never forget that.”


	28. Simple

“You _sure_ about this?”

He met Preston’s confused expression. “You don’t think I’ll do it?”

“For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve gone with the flow, kept your head down, and never spoke up.”

“That’s not changing.”

“I know.” Preston’s features and voice softened. “But she’s basking in the limelight.”

“And I love her.”

“Ah, to be in love.” He patted Blue’s back. “So… how are you going about it?”

“That’s simple,” he said, gesturing with his chin. “ _This_ was the complicated half.”

The jeweler returned with the ring he asked for: a golden triangle inlaid with a ruby.


	29. Promise

She hummed while makeup artists perfected her eyeliner. He watched from the shadows of her changing room until everyone vacated. The golden, layered gown was a custom Darzi design, inspired by her melodies. Every thread and feather was meticulously placed. She was a goddess before him. He wasn’t worthy of her, yet he loved her and she somehow loved. Her face lit up when she turned and found him. Tears welled up when he bent at the knee before her with the ring to match her attire. She technically didn’t say yes, but her squeals and loving pounce promised plenty. 


	30. Future

“We should celebrate!”

The house lights died. The audience screamed for Red, yet she lived in the future, where it was just them. 

“You have a show,” he said.

“What about Junction Jan’s?!” She squeezed his hands. “They’re always open late!”

“You might be exhausted after this performance,” he teased.

“Then we’ll get it to go and eat in the limo on the way back.”

He snorted. “Eating flatbread in a designer gown to celebrate an engagement?” His forehead met hers. “I don’t know why I expected anything else.”

“So it's a date?” Her eyes dazzled like sapphires in the limited light.

“Always.”

The crowd chanted for her. Cameras flashed. A single mic stood on stage. Neither moved.

“I love you,” Red whispered, still grinning.

“Love you, too,” he barely finished before she crushed her lips into his.

He embraced her and wished the moment never ended.

She cupped his face, the triangular ring adorned on her hand. “Wish me luck?”

“You never need it.”

She laughed and he kissed her palm before she emerged onstage. Spotlights flooded the stage. Red serenaded the audience. He stayed in his corner backstage and grinned. One more show between them and their celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A double drabble to wrap it up, because reasons :')
> 
> Another drabble collection wrapped up! I had so many thoughts about the man within the Transistor and was happy to breathe life to them. In turn, I'm so happy to see others have enjoyed this insight. Many thanks to all of you lovely readers for the support. I'm certainly not done with these ♥


End file.
